365 Days
by Gryffindor010697
Summary: 8760 hours, 525600 minutes, 31536000 seconds, also known as one year. This story is very much inspired by Morning Lilies' story, Days in a Year. It consists of drabbles that may take place from the time of the Founders, to the time of the Next Generation, depending on how I feel that day. This is a yearlong project, so enjoy!
1. August 1- Prognosticate

**I have decided (with the help of some awesome people who private messaged me) to transfer the month-long **_**What's In a Word **_**into a yearlong **_**365 Days**_**. It's going to run from August 1, 2013 to August 1, 2014, so it should include 365 chapters (God help me) and I will post relatively normally. As to avoid clashing with Morning Lilies' words for her/his story (**_**Days in a Year**_**, please check it out) I will be puling words from Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day List from 2010-2011, if you wish to follow along. So as to bore you no longer, I shall start this YEARLONG project... now. **

**Prognosticate****: to forecast or predict... _kind of like a Seer does_.**

**August 1, 1980**

Sybill Trelawney wiped the sweat from her brow as she climbed up the stepladder that led to her new classroom.

"The higher up in this bloody castle you go, the hotter it is," she complained to no one in particular. Behind her levitated a box full of things that she had moved from her room at Hog's Head. It depressed her to realize that all of things that she owned fit in a small box, but she hadn't time to dwell on such things. She was much more preoccupied on the fact of why she was here.

A month previous, she had had a meeting with the great Albus Dumbledore in her room above Hog's Head pub. Much of the meeting was cloudy and a large portion was absent from her memory. She did remember the look on Albus's face just before the meeting ended. It was one of caution and amusement. Then he smiled and said, "You may move in on the first of August. Welcome to Hogwarts." Then he held out a long hand and swept from the room. And now she was here.

"Sybill!" came a voice from below her. Sybill stood and wiped her forehead again. She placed a smile on her face.

"Headmaster," she said. She extended her hand as Dumbledore opened his arms to her. He embraced her and she felt awkward as her output hand was stuck between his stomach and her chest.

"Everything packed away nicely?" the taller wizard asked, oblivious to the awkward moment that had just passed.

"Yes sir," she said, pushing her box under her desk with her foot.

"Excellent, excellent," then he drew closer and said in a hushed voice, "I'm sure you would be happy to know that part of your prophecy has come to fruition. Both Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter have delivered baby boys. Neville and Harry, respectively. We're watching them closely and they are not being sent on any missions. Thank you for your help, Sybill. As long as I am headmaster, you will be welcome here at this school," Dumbledore finished with a smile. He, again, took Sybill into an embrace, gave her another beaming smile, and left the circular classroom in two long strides.

"What the hell was that man talking about?" Sybill asked no one in particular as she picked up her box-full-of-life and walked into her office.

**The rest of the drabbles will be longer than this because, in hindsight, this one was awfully short. Also, Trelawney's language may be a little OOC (out-of-character) but the way I see it, she puts on airs around others to be accepted as a Seer, when in all actuality she's of the same sanity as us normal folks. Promise not to make the rest of these Author Notes as long. Thanks! **


	2. August 2- Spatchcock

**Spatchcock****: to insert or interweave, esp. in a forced or incongruous manner… **_**kind of like mixing a bunch of potions together. **_

**August 2, 2023**

"Damn it all!" Victoire yelled as she threw a potion book a against the wall of the potions lab. It hit a shelf full of beakers and they cascaded to the ground, sending shards of glass everywhere. She slid to the ground, drawing her knees to her chest. None of the combinations of potions were working. She had tried Pepper-Up mixed with a Sleeping Draught. She tried numerous antidotes mixed with salves and none of them were working.

"Weasley, are you okay?" came a voice from above her.

Victoire wiped her eyes on her robes quickly and she pulled her hair out of her face. She stood to find her partner, Natalie, standing in the doorway.

"Yeah… I'm fine," she said. Her lie was convincing, after all, she had been lying to her self for a couple of weeks now.

"I don't believe you," Natalie said. Her face was worried behind her oversized goggles. Her dark hair was tied into a ponytail, as it was supposed to be when working with potions. Victoire had forgotten.

"You don't have to," Victoire said. She walked over to the other side of her lab. Realizing she left her wand by the cauldron, waved her hand at the mess she had made. The beakers mended themselves and flew back up on the shelf at breakneck speed, nearly breaking again.

Natalie stared at her friend for moment. Then, after a while of watching her stir a boiling cauldron, she asked, "Is this about your grandfather?"

Victoire stalled as she diced silverweed. She chose not to answer.

"Is he getting worse?" Natalie pressed.

Victoire nodded, head hanging low over the potions, "He has about a week," she said.

Natalie crossed the room in three strides and hugged her co-worker. Victoire couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Sweetie, this disease can't be cured once it comes back a second time, you know that. The cure doesn't work twice," Natalie said.

"I know," Victoire said. She again cleaned her eyes and pulled back her hair, this time, she tied it into a high ponytail, "That's why I'm trying to make a different cure. When the first cure was made, people usually didn't live long enough to relapse. So now that we live longer, we need a cure that can be used more than once."

"I know, but it's been improved upon since the original cure. Hell Albus Dumbledore made some improvements on it fifty years ago. But it only works once," Natalie said.

"Look, Natalie. If you're not going to offer me any help, then I'd appreciate it if you leave," Victoire said as she shook powder into her cauldron, causing pink foam to spew from its edges.

"Shit," Vic said as she knelt to the ground to clean her mess.

"Here," Natalie said. Victoire looked up at Natalie, who was offering her a towel.

"Thanks," Victoire said.

After the mess was cleaned up, Natalie asked, "Have you tried the original cure with ginger?"

Victoire smiled, "No, I haven't!" she exclaimed. She called for a new cauldron with her wand and begun brewing Natalie's idea with new vigor. Natalie helped all she could but she knew, without a doubt, that it wouldn't work. She knew Arthur Weasley would be dead within the next month, but if giving her friend false hope helped her out, then why wouldn't she?


	3. August 3- Tarry

**Tarry: to remain or stay, as in a place; sojourn; to wait… _like waiting on good news._**

**August 3, 2019**

The incessant ticking of the wall clock made Percy itch for his wand. He found its oak handle sticking just out of his pocket but then he thought it better not to blast the damned thing off the wall. It wouldn't help anyone and it wouldn't bring news faster.

He looked around at the pregnant women in the maternity word of St. Mungo's. Most of the women were sporting large bellies and some of them sat with their spouses as they chatted happily about their upcoming baby.

He remembered those appointments with Audrey when she was carrying Molly. But this was much different. This time Audrey and the baby were in danger. Percy had woken up to the sound of Audrey yelling. And now they were here.

"Dad, are you okay?" Percy heard from his right. He had almost forgotten Molly was there because she had been so quiet.

"I'm fine, ladybug," he said.

"I'm eleven now, dad," she said.

Percy looked at her with a tilted head, "I'm aware."

"And in my advanced age, I know when you are lying to me for my own good," she said. She pushed her glasses up her nose and stared at her father, her blue eyes piercing his brown ones.

"I see," he said simply.

"So can you answer my question truthfully?"

"I'm fine, Molly. I'm just worried."

"Me too," she said. She grabbed her father's hand and continued reading the book that was open on her lap. Percy smiled and picked up a trashy magazine that lay on a table in front of him.

* * *

"Mr. Weasley," Percy was yanked out of a semi-entertaining (and probably fabricated) story about Celestina Warbeck's grandniece. He looked up to see a nurse.

He stood, "Yes?" He saw Molly look up from her book, her face very reminiscent to his mother's when she was worried.

"Your wife is fine. We gave her some sleeping draught and she's taking a nap," she said.

"And my child?"

"Your child is fine. Your wife's age is a major factor here and the pregnancy is putting extra stress on her body. The doctor has put her on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy," she said.

Molly was standing now and she looked very relieved then she asked, "Am I going to have a brother or sister?"

The nurse was about to answer when Percy said, "No! We don't want to know."

Molly sat back down, disappointed.

Percy kissed his daughter on her head and walked with nurse to see his wife.

"Now I have to wait to name it," she complained as she stood and followed her father.


	4. August 4- Minim

**Minim****: the least quantity of anything****; something very small or insignificant****… **_**like a small house with limited furniture.**_

**August 4, 1969**

"I know you're used to more than this," Arthur said. He was opening the door of the small farmhouse. It opened onto a small scullery with shelves along its walls. He led her into a kitchen, disproportionately large compared to the rest of the house.

"I know the kitchen is quite small in comparison to the one at your house," Arthur said apologetically. Molly said nothing. She then saw an adjoining door to the kitchen and she walked to it without the lead of Arthur.

The door creaked as it opened slowly ("I can fix that.") and she walked into the coziest room she had ever seen. It had a queen-sized bed with a delightful scarlet quilt on it ("My mother knitted it for us,") with matching pillows. Molly allowed herself to lie down on the bed for a moment and she could have fallen asleep just that quickly.

She stood; still not addressing Arthur as she walked out of the room, through the kitchen and into a smallish living room with built in bookshelves and a mangy sofa ("I can buy a new one soon.") Her imagination ran away with her as she saw numerous red headed children sitting and playing and laughing on that very sofa, grabbing books off of the bookshelf. She felt a tear form.

"Oh, Molly," Arthur said. He took his new wife (they had been married only two hours now) in his arms and held her, "I know it's small and I know you came from a larger house and more money, and I'm sorry I can't help it. My job at Mad-," Arthur was cut off by Molly's lips.

After a long passionate kiss, Molly said, "Shut up, you idiot. I love it."

Arthur's eyes were still shocked open from the kiss and the surprise of her joy.

"Yes, I grew up in a larger house and yes, we had money, but Arthur, really I'd rather be the poorest woman on the planet than not to be in love with you. _You_ are all I need."

Arthur, in danger of tearing up himself, wiped his eyes and tried to gain control of his voice, "I love you Molly Prew… er… Weasley," he said. He strode over to her, grabbed her at the waist and kissed her while walking toward the sofa. They both sat simultaneously after a moment of confusion, they found themselves on the ground with a cloud of dust around them, sitting on the splintered sofa.

"Okay, maybe we do need a new sofa," she said. Arthur threw his head back with an animated guffaw and Molly joined in with her soft peals of laughter. The two ended up kissing again.


	5. August 5- Cheechako

**Cheechako:**** a tenderfoot; greenhorn; newcomer… **_**like a novice reporter in over her head.**_

**August 5, 2022**

"Oi, move it," had been many people's words of choice to her today. Apparently she was in many people's way in the bullpen of the _Daily Prophet._ Mr. Cuffe had hired Dominique on the spot just that morning.

"Sorry," had been her meek reply. If you knew Dominique, you would know that she was anything but meek, but being in the midst of so many senior reporters made her cower a bit. Based on her portfolio, Cuffe had allowed her to skip the basement, where most newbies started out. She was upstairs with the Martin Tollivers and the Elaine Vances.

After making her way to her desk (it was directly beside the bathrooms which was a blessing for a weak bladder and a curse for a sensitive nose and Dom had both) Dominique sat and placed her head in her hands. Her strawberry blonde locks were much too long these days and she was toying with the idea of cutting them very short when a voice interrupted her train of thought.

"Dominique?" Dominique looked up to meet the eyes of her former high school boyfriend, Thomas Henry.

"Tom?" she asked. This was excellent, as if her day couldn't get worse. Adding insult to injury the jerk was still handsome. His teeth were just as white and straight as they were when she had seen them last, as he hugged her before he sailed across the Black Lake to graduate from Hogwarts.

"Yeah, I see you remember me."

_Well of course I remember you, you prat. I gave you my virginity_. "Yeah, I do," she elected to say.

"Cool. Well you might want to start working your way down to Cuffe's office. He usually gives out assignments around this time."

"Give's out?" Dominique asked. She had interned in the basement last year and she wasn't really sure what was going on above her everyday.

"Yeah. He-," Tom was cut off by a rush of footsteps as people stampeded toward Cuffe's door. Tom smiled apologetically and joined the crowd.

Dominique thought it smart to follow the crowd and as she drew closer she heard names being called. "Morris, you're on the Gringott's story. Bones, I need you on the Goblin revolt in Edinburgh…" and on he went until the crowd began to thin and there were only a few people left.

"The rest of you I need on research. Go out and do field work. Come back with statements from people on the street about the things that have been going on, except… you Weasley. Come in my office."

Tom was one of the few left and he looked at Dominique and mouthed 'ooh, you're in trouble'. Dom rolled her eyes at him and followed her graying boss into his office.

"Yes sir?" she asked as he sat at his desk.

"I need _you_ my dear, to get a statement from one Mrs. Hermione Granger-Weasley."

"My aunt?" she asked.

"The very one. I didn't want to broadcast that to the crew, nepotism and all," he said. He lit a pipe and Dominique found it very stereotypical of a 1940s newsroom in the old American movies she watched.

"Yeah, nepotism," she agreed.

"Considering Mrs. Weasley used to be the head of the Goblin and Elf reform movement, quoting her is what most of these reporters would kill to do. Are you close with your aunt?"

"Er… yeah, I suppose. She's my Godmother."

"_Is_ she? Well that is wonderful. You are dismissed. I'm going to need that statement before workday's end," he said. He began to pick at some papers on his desk, signaling her to leave.

Dominique slowly rose and walked from the office. She was irritated. She had more than a sneaking suspicion that she had gotten this career jumpstart just because of the number of 'celebrities' in her family. Maybe her portfolio had no effect on anything. Maybe she was a wretched writer. But she wouldn't let these thoughts take her over now. She was a rookie with a big job and regardless of how she got it; she would carry it out to the best of her ability.

* * *

**Hope you all noticed that indomitable Weasley pride poking out at the end. :)**


	6. August 6- Yeuk

**Yeuk: an itching sensation... _ever had chicken pox?_**

**August 6, 2007**

"Gran, it itches!" Teddy Lupin whined as he squirmed in his bed.

"I know, Teddy. I'm mixing the salve now," Andromeda said as she peered into a book of medical potions and salves.

"Aargh," he complained, "Why can't I go to Harry's?" he asked.

"You don't want Jamie and Al getting sick, do you? And Ginny for that matter," Andromeda said. She knew the chicken pox was a Muggle sickness and very little Wizards ever get them. She had gotten them when she was younger from a Muggle-born boy at Hogwarts so she was immune.

"No, Gran. But I'm bored and itchy!" he said. The young boy's hair was a dirty brown, reflecting his mood.

"We can play Wizard's Chess."

"But I'm gonna be itchy."

"True."

"I don't wanna be itchy, Gran," he said, with a hint of pity.

"I know, Teddy. I had them. But you can't scratch them okay?"

"Why?" he asked.

"It makes them spread, honey."

Teddy nodded. Andromeda finished mixing the salve and began applying it to her grandson's arms. She remembered doing the same thing to her daughter when she had contracted the pox.

The smell was pungent and she remembered the day vividly.

* * *

"Mumma, it itches," a small brown haired girl complained.

"Aw, Dora, I know." Andromeda said as she swept her long brown hair behind her ears, as to get it out of the salve.

"When do I get to scratch?" she asked. She held up her hands, which were in oven mitts.

"You don't, Dora. This ointment will make it better. I promise."

Nymphadora began to 'sneakily' scratch by rubbing one of the mitts against her belly, which was peppered in small red spots.

"I will put a body-bind curse on you, young lady," Andromeda jokingly threatened.

"Nuh-uh," Dora said with a giggle. She squirmed in her bed as Andromeda began rubbing the salve on her shoulders.

* * *

A tear dropped from Andromeda's eye. She had forgotten all about Dora's bout with chicken pox.

"Gran… are you okay?" Teddy asked. He stopped squirming to check on his grandmother.

"Yes. But you know who else had chicken pox, Teddy?"

The young boy nodded his head.

"Your mum had them," Andromeda said simply.

Teddy was silent for a beat then he said, "Really?"

"Yup. She handled it like a trooper, I might add," Andromeda said. She wouldn't look Teddy in his eyes.

"Oh," he said simply.

Andromeda applied the salve and kissed her grandson on his forehead. They played Wizard's chess for a couple of hours and then Teddy went to sleep. And may I mention he didn't try to scratch once.

A little white lie wasn't that bad, right?


	7. August 7- Mojo

**Mojo: personal**** magnetism; charm… **_**like a certain **_**je ne sais quoi**_**.**_

**August 7, 1979**

"And why do you love me?" the dark haired man asked his fair-haired wife.

"Well I love this wrinkle right here," she said pointing at the crease that formed on is forehead whenever he smiled.

"And what else?" he badgered on, softly prodding her in her side with his finger.

She giggled as he touched one of her only ticklish spots, "Well I love how you know all of my ticklish spots," she rolled closer to him and they cuddled on the blanket. It was the perfect time of day for a summer picnic.

The dark haired man frowned a little and his wife noticed, "What, Frankie?"

"Well, I just listed one-hundred and four things I love about you," he said, and no, he wasn't exaggerating.

"Well I could go on but I don't know, Frankie. You have a certain _je ne sais quoi_ about yourself," she said, her French accent perfect.

"Not all of us have French grandmothers, _chérie_. Translation?" Frank asked.

"It means you have this… undetectable charm; this unknown component that I just love.

Apparently satisfied, Frank took Alice into his arms. They looked up in the sky at the stars that were just appearing. They stayed like this for nearly an hour when a flash of light darted across the sky, very close to them. Frank was up in a flash, wand out and Alice wasn't too far behind him. He stood in front of her, arm out in a protective manner.

They were met with a flying white spectral bird. It was only a Patronus, Dumbledore's phoenix. It opened its beak, "You both are needed at headquarters post-haste." Then it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"There's that wonderful charm again. Protective and strong with a mixture of-."

"Love?" Frank asked as he held out his arm. She hooked hers with his and he turned on his heel, Disapparating on the spot.


	8. August 8- Fantod

**Fantod: a state of extreme nervousness or restlessness… _like right before you ask someone a REALLY serious question._**

**August 8, 1978**

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry," James said as he conjured a napkin. He dabbed Lily's wine soaked blouse, grazing her chest as she blushed.

"James Potter, if I didn't know any better I would say that you were nervous," then she thought, "Either that or you were trying to touch my boobs."

"Er… the first one. Although… er… those are nice. I mean they're not-,"

Lily kissed her boyfriend, "What's gotten in to you?"

"Huh?" James asked as he sat in front of his girlfriend. She looked amazing tonight. Her hair was up in a casual bun and two strands hung in her face, whether that was intentional, James didn't know. Her bright eyes sparkled in the moonlight and her necklace that her grandmother gave her shined. It was the perfect time.

"You're jittery and clumsy. You're never clumsy. What gives?" she asked.

James cursed himself. He was obviously transparent and he figured she already knew. James had decorated the second floor balcony with lilies of multiple colors. A vase of tiger lilies adorned the table that the couple sat at, as they were Lily's favorite lilies. He had cooked the food himself, with the help of his favorite house elf, Tallie. Just as a last telltale sign, James _had_ been acting differently since he bought the ring, and as the night progressed, he grew more restless and more nervous.

"You think?" he asked with, what he hoped was, a charming smile.

"Yeah I do," she said, throwing a dazzling smile back at him.

"Well if the nervousness is so apparent, maybe we should get to it then?" James said as he fingered the box in his pocket.

"Get to what?" she asked. She took a sip of her wine and winced at the taste. She didn't much like alcohol but James worked to hard on this date for her to refuse.

"To this," James swiftly got down on his knee while simultaneously pulling the box out of his pocket. He heard a loud rip, but he chose to ignore it.

He opened the box and inside glittered a gold band with a large diamond set into it. Around the diamond, lay seven emeralds, one for every year that they'd known each other.

"Lily Katherine Evans, I have loved you since that day on the train when you tore me a new one for ignoring Snape. I have wanted you since fifth year when you kicked me in my balls for dying Marlene's hair blue. I have wanted to marry you since you said you loved me back. Lily, will you marry me?"

Lily, for one of the first times in her life, was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed as she realized yes was inadequate. She found that each second she didn't say yes, James's face grew more earnest and more pleading. She wanted to say yes but sound wouldn't pass her lips. She noticed a bead of sweat slide down James's face and pool into the crease of his frown. She nodded and smiled so as to avoid a heart attack.

James beamed and almost tackled her out of her seat. He lifted her up and hugged her and kissed her. "Oh my god, we have to tell Marlene and Sirius. Alice is going to _die,_ and what about Remus and Peter," Lily rambled on. Then she smiled at her fiancé, "We need to tell everyone."

James smiled, "Everyone," he agreed. He went to go grab a broom for them to ride off into he night on when he felt the breeze from his backside.

"This is the happiest moment of my life, Lily, but before we go tell the whole world that we're getting married, would you mind if I changed my pants?" he said, gesturing to his red underwear peeking out.

Lily and James spent the next half hour laughing on the marble floor of that second story balcony.


	9. August 9- Gerent

**Gerent: a ruler or manager… _like a headmaster._**

**August 9, 2010**

She knew this year would be her last at Hogwarts. It had become a strenuous uphill battle to climb the various stairs that the school had to offer. She hadn't been up to the Astronomy tower in ages, preferring Professor Sinistra to come to her. Even now, as she sat in her desk in the large circular room, her knee ached. It ached when it rained and it ached when it was cold and, God forbid it ever snow.

But her faulty knee wasn't the only reason she knew she needed to leave the school. It was outgrowing her. She was used to the politeness of the first years and the eagerness of the seventh years, but the children of this generation didn't respect authority and were lazy. She could fix that no doubt, but she felt too tired. In truth, Minerva hadn't been the same since she was hospitalized oh so many years ago after the Battle. She was frequently tired and she found her mind unable to focus, but she took on the role of Headmistress out of respect for Albus.

So as she sat at her desk, she remembered what she actually liked about the job.

* * *

"Professor… err… Headmistress McGonagall," came a voice from her doorway. Minerva looked up from the book she was reading. The Battle of Hogwarts had been a month previous but there were still people repairing the school. She frequently got away from the noise by retreating to her office to read.

"Professor will suffice, Ms. Granger. What can I help you with?" she asked, smiling at her former student.

Hermione's hair was weaved into a long fishtail braid and a couple of strands were loose in her face. There was a quill behind her ear.

"Can I repeat my seventh year?" she blurted.

Minerva wasn't sure how to answer, Hermione had been working as something of an architect during Hogwarts's rebuilding but this was the first time she had spoken to McGonagall about this, "Why would you want to do that, Ms. Granger? Considering your accolades from the war, any job would be happy to-," Minerva was cut off by Hermione's sobs. The filled the room and reverberated off of the walls, waking some of the dozing portraits.

Minerva stood, slowly as not to wrench her sprained knee, and strode over to Hermione. She took her into her arms and she was surprised when she realized that Hermione was taller than she was. She was no longer the bushy haired, slightly buck-toothed eleven-year old she once was.

"I – just- want – another – chance," she said between sobs. Her body shook.

"Another chance at what, Ms. Granger?" Minerva asked. She waved her wand at the hair behind Hermione and a comfy chair appeared. She guided her too it.

"Another chance – to have – a normal life," she wiped her eyes as the sobs subsided and the hiccups began, "I don't want to be the war hero who gets whatever she wants just because she helped save the Wizarding world. I want to study for my N.E.W.T.s and earn them fair and square. I _want_ to write long essays for Potions. I _want_ to sail across that lake one more time Professor. I need this," she said. She gave a look of mixed pity, shame, and pride. It was interesting to watch.

"I will welcome you with open arms, Hermione," Minerva said. Hermione was surprised and her jaw was slack.

"Are you okay?" the older witch asked.

"You… just called me Hermione. I don't think you've done that before," she said.

"Well… I… don't think I have either, but now that you're my student again, good day, Ms. Granger. I hope to see you bright and early September 1." McGonagall gave a terse smile and walked back to her desk.

Hermione stood from the conjured chair (which disappeared as she got up from it) and nodded at her headmistress, "Good day, Professor," she said.

* * *

Yes, she would miss that look on her students' faces when she gave them good news. She would miss the furrowed brows of confused first years. She would miss the long conversations with Pomona and Aurora at the head table, but every season has an end and hers had come up. This time next year, her portrait would be on the wall behind the Headmaster's chair.


	10. August 10- Absquatulate

**Absquatulate****: to flee; abscond… **_**like running from your angry mother.**_

**August 10, 2015**

"This house is humungous, Freddie," Jonathan McLaggen said. Ever since Angelina had called Fred 'Freddie-Poo' in front of Jonathan and James, they had been calling him Freddie. They _were_ calling him Freddie-Poo, but Freddie stuck.

"I know, _Johnnie._ I'm just glad it's done. Living in the flat with me and Roxy sharing a room was ridiculous. She's seven and she wears perfume. It smells like cat piss."

Fred was showing them around. He led them into the industrial kitchen, which, if George chose to do so, could accommodate twelve house-elves. The double parlor was huge with floor to ceiling windows and the foyer was decked in white and silver furniture. Then the trio decided to walk into the living room.

"Don't tell mum we came in here," Fred said as he sat on a couch. James followed suit and Jonathan sat on the floor.

"Is this thing made out of a cloud?" James asked, semi-serious, as he spread out on the sofa. His left foot went into Fred's face and Fred bit it.

"Weirdo," Jonathan said as he laughed.

"You prat!" James said. He sat up and slugged Fred in the arm.

"Ow!" Fred exclaimed. James's eyes bulged and began to apologize when Fred punched him back, this time in the stomach.

Calamity ensued and the two cousins ended up tussling around on the floor. Jonathan sat on the sidelines, raucously laughing.

The two boys rolled one too many times off of the nice cashmere rug on to the hard wood floor where they knocked over a raised pedestal. And on that pedestal… was a vase.

There was a deafening crash as the pottery shards scattered across the floor and the boys froze, Jonathan mid-laugh and James mid-slap.

"What… are… you… DOING!" came a voice from the archway that led to the living room.

Fred looked up (or down because he was positioned upside down) to find his mother, eyes blaring and her hair seemed to stand on end. Then he laughed.

"Did you just _laugh?_" Angelina asked with murder in her voice.

"You look funny upside down," he said.

"Frederick Lee Weasley!" she yelled as she started toward her son and nephew.

"RUN JAMES! JOHNNIE! RUN FOR THE HILLS," Fred yelled as he jumped up from under his cousin who had been punching him moments previously.

The boys ran up the back flight of stairs to the second story.

"Where are we going?" Jonathan asked.

"I dunno, you said it yourself. It's a big house. Just go!"

* * *

**If you read _All Weasleys Aboard to Hogwarts_ you'd know the group (I call them the Marauders 2.0) consists of Jonathan, Fred, James, and Mike. If you read said story, you would know that at this point, Mike was in America on vacation. So... the main idea to the Author's Note... Read _All Weasleys Aboard to Hogwarts_... yeah, it's my favorite story that I've written and yes, I'm shamelessly self-promoting. **


	11. August 11- Koan

**Koan: A nonsensical or paradoxical question to a student for which an answer is demanded, the stress of meditation on the question often being illuminating… _like which came first…?_**

**August 11, 2029**

"Capital of Algeria?" Percy asked his young daughter.

Lucy rolled her eyes, "Algiers, dad. Challenge me."

"4th President of the United States?" he smiled, knowing he stumped his daughter.

Lucy scrunched up her eyebrows and then she answered with certainty, "James Madison."

Percy frowned, "What's faster a hippogriff or a Thestral?"

"You forget Luna Scamander is my favorite person, ever. The answer is the Thestral," Lucy said with a smile.

Percy furrowed his brow, trying to pick the right question to baffle his daughter who was probably smarter than he was. His eyes lit up and he asked, "What came first the chicken or the egg?"

Lucy opened her mouth to answer, and then she closed it. Her brow furrowed too as she thought. Percy laughed.

"The chicken came first," came an answer from the kitchen. Percy looked up to find his oldest daughter sitting at the island in the kitchen. She was flipping through a _Daily Prophet_ casually.

"How'd you know?" Lucy asked incredulously.

"Common-sense… something you lack, Luce. And by the way… you're both nerds."

With that, Molly stood from her seat and went up the stairs toward her bedroom. Lucy fumed while Percy silently chuckled, "Merlin, I love you two," he said.

* * *

**It's short but I think it adequately sums up the dynamics in Percy's family. Audrey was on business at Hogwarts. **


	12. August 12- Rhapsodize

**Rhapsodize: to talk with extravagant enthusiasm…**_**like when your sister won't shut up.**_

**August 12, 2018**

James ran his fingers through his long hair, figuring the stressful situation would cause him to go bald. But alas his shoulder length raven strands were intact and messy as ever. He pressed his hands to his ears.

Albus sat across the kitchen table in a state of similar irritation. He read over his Hogwarts's list over and over, trying to drown out the constant drone of the eleven-year-old voice on his left. He drank his orange juice, trying his best to quell the 'Shut Up!' that was welling u in his throat.

"I wonder if Mum and Dad are gunna get me a cat or an owl. I would hate a toad. Imagine me carrying around a slimy toad, I mean, could you imagine?" she asked, addressing both of her brothers. Albus gave an indifferent 'umph," and James decided not to answer. But before anyone could give an adequate answer Lily was already talking.

"… which makes me wonder if I'm going to have to get sized at Madam Malkin's. I'm usually an easy fit, but I don't know if Hogwarts robes are different. Do you, Al?"

Al's eyes were glazed over and he went to sip more orange juice, but he found his glass empty. Forced to answer, he settled with, "I think you'll be fine, Lily. No worries," he smiled at his little sister.

"Oh, that's good," Lily said. Finally, they got a reprieve in this rant. Or so they thought.

"I wonder if Uncle Neville will be the same as he is out side of school. Maybe he'll treat me differently, do you think so James?"

James was hitting his head repeatedly on the table in front of him. Lily shrugged it off and continued.

From the other room, the Potter trio heard, "Let's load the car kids."

James and Al ran, not walked, ran into the living room and out of the front door, leaving poor Lily discussing the benefits of used books over new ones by herself. She shrugged, grabbed her coat and walked toward the front door.


	13. August 13- Attar

**Attar: perfume or essential oil obtained from flowers or petals... **_**like the kind your lover wears.**_

**August 13, 970**

"I love your scent," he said. He took in another whiff of the sweet smell next to him. He rolled over closer to her and set his nose on her collarbone.

She shivered, allowing him to smell her sweet perfume, of which she had placed in strategic places. She had made it herself. It was an infusion of lavender and rose.

"You did that on purpose, Rowena," he smiled at her and she nodded, "I know how much you love lavender."

"That, I do," he agreed. Then he sniffed again, "What's that other thing I sense?"

"Rose… it's… his favorite," Rowena said. She became uncomfortable and covered her naked body with the comforter.

"Oh," he said. He rolled back over to his side of the sizeable bed. He awkwardly tucked his long rust colored hair out of his eyes.

"Godric, I can't," she said, "I can't end it with him."

Godric nodded solemnly, "I never expected you to, Rowena. It would be nice, and I would love to be with you, but you are so stuck on him and I'm fine with that. But may I ask, when's the last time you've been intimate?"

Rowena was taken aback and offended, "I… Godric that's-."

"I know. I am sorry, Rowena but I promise, Salazar doesn't love you as I do. He's been working in the dungeons for months and I barely see him, so I know you two haven't been together."

Again, Rowena was speechless and then she teared up and said, "I know, Godric… but I'm pregnant and I-," she noticed Godric uttered an odd noise, a choke mixed with a quiet sob. She looked up at him.

"I'm happy for you two," Godric said. He quickly pulled on his pants and his over-robes and he was gone before Rowena could say any thing.

"The baby is yours," she said quietly to no one.

* * *

**This went waaaaay beyond perfume but I felt like I haven't did enough (any) founders drabbles so why not now. This is on the same timetable as my Founders story (a work in progress) and I missed writing with Rowena. More to come on that story soon enough. I am a horrible person. I didn't load yesterday and that chapter (and this one) ****are sooo short. Sorry! School and band are ****draining! But no more excuses and no more slip-ups.**


	14. August 14- Balneal

**Balneal****: pertaining to baths or bathing… **_**like the prefect bathroom.**_

**August 14, 2018**

She snuck her way to the second floor of the mansion, being almost too cautious with her steps. She had almost woken Dominique as she was slipping her bathrobe on. Most of the cousins were sleeping over at Uncle George's house, so she had to snake her way through limp cousins and bare feet as she made her way out of the den.

The moon was high in the sky through the window and it looked comically huge, like it would in a cartoon. She stared at it for a while, becoming transfixed in the moon's glare. It had always had an odd effect on her and she hoped her father was fine, as the full moon usually caused him extreme pain.

Finally she got to the door and she crept inside, lighting the candles with her wand as she did so. The smell of shampoo and bath oils hit Victoire's nose suddenly and softly. She picked up the lavender and sandalwood. Then the cinnamon and the green apple enveloped her as she crossed the threshold.

"Thank, Merlin," she whispered as she slipped off her robe. She flicked her wand at the faucets and they sprung to life, filling the large bath with water and bath soap. She slowly slipped in the pool of water and the aches from her late night Quidditch practice at the Burrow's field slipped away. Her thoughts of Teddy and his mixed signals were gone and her stress over her N.E. were gone, too.

This was what she looked forward too at the end of each day. She was a common fixture in the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts and the stress of that day's practice slipped away when she hit the warm water. It was the only way she could wind down and it was part of her daily routine.

* * *

**These drabbles are going to short for the next couple of days. I usually write these in advance but I lost a lot of chapters due to a crash (I saved a lot of stuff though). So bear with me and enjoy!**


	15. August 15- Incunabulum

**Incunabulum: the earliest stages or first traces of anything… _like_ _morning sickness._**

**August 15, 2021**

Victoire pulled her golden red hair out of her face. She bent over on her broom, trying to go as fast as possible. She saw the lights of London in the distance as she sped up. She was sure she had hit the two hundred miles per hour mark.

She saw the building in question and she alighted to the ground under the cover of a Disillusionment charm and she ran into the building. She went through the protocols of the passwords and the flushing-Floo toilets.

Down the elevator she went, willing it to go faster. She waved at a former classmate who was the head of a department in the Ministry. They chatted, but Vic wasn't paying attention. She held her stomach and felt the firmness for the first time. She felt the protrusion of her belly behind her abdominals. She was two-months along. She should have known really, the morning sickness and the sore boobs. She hated the smell of Teddy's aftershave and she absolutely adored watermelon, where she had once hated it. It was obvious right?

Well the Healers at St. Mungo's thought so. Her normal medical witch, Jasmine Helms (who she also went to school with), walked in the office, looked at Vic for a split second, smiled and asked, "Do you know or are you here to find out? Because you are," she said.

After having all of the mandatory tests, Vic hopped on her broom (as Apparation was a no-no after the first month of pregnancy) and started making her way here.

She almost missed her stop on the elevator and she quickly hustled off, leaving former-classmate-head-of-so-and-so midsentence. She made her way… okay, she ran, to the door of the Auror department. It was ten o'clock at night, so the usual bustle had died down to about half its usual business. She spotted Teddy's cubicle and she walked… okay, she ran again, to the cubicle.

His head was on his desk, and he was snoring. Vic was too excited to do it gently so she kicked his leg.

"Wah?" he said, jerking upward. His drowsy eyes found Vic's.

"Victwahh?" he sad sleepily, "Wahs wrong?"

"Remember last month's flu?" she asked.

He squinted his eyes and stood up, towering over her five-foot-four frame, "Yeah."

"And this month's period," she asked.

He scrunched up his face and jostled his bronze hair, "No."

Victoire's 'schedule' was printed on Teddy's calendar, so he knew the general area when her 'Aunt Flo' would visit. He scrunched up his face again and Victoire nodded.

"You're late?" he asked. His face was frozen.

"Who's late?" came a voice form behind Teddy. Victoire peered from around her husband to find her uncle/quasi-father-in-law.

Vic froze. She wanted to tell Teddy here, but not in front of the man who had frequently changed her diapers… and her husband's.

"Vic… are you," Teddy began to ask, his face still frozen.

"Am I… uh? Hi, Uncle Harry," Vic said in a way that was _supposed_ to tell Teddy to shut up.

"Vic's late for what?" Harry asked. He placed a packet of paperwork on Teddy's desk, near the puddle of drool the latter had left.

"An appointment."

"Her period."

Victoire and Teddy talked in unison.

Harry paled very quickly, "Oh… er… I."

"Yeah. I'm pregnant," Victoire said to no one in particular. Harry was still pale and Teddy was too. His hair began to lose its color and it was soon platinum white.

"Edward Lupin… I'm going to need you to speak in the near future," Victoire said in the voice she used to use on James when he was late for Quidditch practice… for the third time in a week.

Teddy's red hair came back in a flash and he smiled. His white teeth were brilliant as he flashed them at his wife. He picked her, causing her feet to dangle a feet in the air.

"I love you so much!" Teddy exclaimed. They had gained a couple of viewers but Victoire didn't care. She was in pure bliss.

She giggled and said, "Is Uncle Harry okay?"

Teddy turned, Victoire still in his arms. Harry still stood there, eyes fixed where they had been.

"Harry?" Teddy said.

Harry snapped out of it and stared at Teddy and Vic, "I'm kinda going to be a grandfather?"

Teddy grinned again, "You are definitely going to be called Grandpa," he said.

Victoire smiled too, knowing that this meant so much to Harry. Then she touched her stomach again. In about seven months, she was going to be a mother.

* * *

**By the way, she had twins, Andi and Remy. Anyone who can guess their full first names will get a preview of the next chapter. PM me!**


	16. August 16- Tare

**Tare****: the weight of the wrapping or container that holds an object… **_**like all of the wrapping paper at a party.**_

**August 16, 2009**

"Im too young to be having a retirement party," Ginny said. She had just turned twenty-eight the previous week and her last game was tomorrow. The whole of the Holyhead Harpies gathered at Ginny's house for he retirement party.

"Well I did retire when I was thirty-five, so you're a tad early," Gwenog Jones said. She was sitting in the corner of Ginny's living room, enjoying all of the festivities.

"But Weasley has three kids, a husband, and she lives on the other side of the country. I think it was time," Jessica said. Jessica had replaced Gwenog as Holyhead captain six years back and Ginny was surprised she had shown up to her party. She wasn't the type to socialize.

"You know Jess, you can call me Ginny now," Ginny said with a smile.

"Who's Ginny?" Jessica asked with a straight face. There was a beat of silence, then Jessica began to laugh and all of the teammates followed suit.

"Well _Ginny_, I think it's time for presents," Jessica said, summoning her gorgeously wrapped present from the dining room table.

* * *

"So what all did the girls get you?" Harry asked his wife as they sat up in their bed. Ginny had on her reading glasses, reading the _Prophet_ and she took them off to answer her husband.

"Well they gave me these," she said, showing him the horn-rimmed glasses.

"Oh?" Harry said stifling a smile.

"And they bought me a nice apron that says 'World's Best Grandma'," she said, this time with a smile.

"Oh well we can re-gift that to Molly," Harry laughed.

"Then Gwen bought me a watch… which I think is a traditional Muggle retirement thing," she said.

Harry nodded, noticing Ginny's solemn expression.

"You okay?" Harry asked.

Ginny pulled her hair out of its ponytail and shook it out, "I dunno, I just feel like they've signed me off as a homemaker. Like Gwen went off to write books about Quidditch after she retired. What am I going to do?"

Before Harry could answer, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," the two said in unison.

A young James Potter walked into his parents bedroom, holding a brown teddy bear (call him Wuggles) in a vice grip.

"What's wrong Jamie?" Ginny asked, patting the bed next to her.

"I think there's a Boogert under my bed," he said.

"A Boogert?" Harry asked, amused at his son's vocabulary.

"Shh," Ginny told her husband, then to her son she said, "What's the Boogert doing, Jamie?"

"He's… uhh… he's going 'boo'. Wuggles is really scared," James said, nodding his head with conviction.

"Do you want Wuggles to sleep in here with daddy and me?"

James nodded and added, "Can I sleep in here too?"

"Sure, but only to keep Wuggles company right?"

James didn't answer. He was already dead asleep, snuggled in between his mother and father, Wuggles tucked between his arms.

"Ginny," Harry said, just before he too was about to go to sleep, "even if you decide not to get a job like Gwen, just know you would still have a pretty big job here at home."

"Yeah, I know," Ginny smiled. She kissed James on the forehead and turned the lights out, drifting off to sleep herself.


	17. August 17- Piquant

**Piquant: of an interestingly provocative or lively character… **_**like when your favorite inappropriate uncle visits.**_

**August 17, 2024**

Louis undid his belt and sat back in his dining room chair. His mother had fixed a huge meal for his Uncle Charlie's homecoming. He had gone back to Romania one last time to help with some excursion for the endangered Norwegian Ridgeback. He had been gone for the past six months.

"I tell you it was amazing," he said. He was on his fifth cup of firewhiskey and Fleur was close to cutting him off, "There are two hundred of 'em left and most of 'em are related. That's one helluva problem," he said, through a heavy tongue.

Bill laughed at his younger brother's drunkenness and sipped on a butterbeer. Fleur pursed her lips in a disapproving look.

"So Vic, how are those munchkins of yours? Andrea and Remí?"

"Andromeda and Remus, Uncle Charlie," Vic laughed, "and they're at home with their dad now."

"Ah, ah. What about you Dom? I heard you're the best photographer at the _Prophet_!"

"No, Uncle Charlie, I'm a reporter," she corrected with a smile.

"Of course, of course. And what's going on with my nephew?" Charlie's eyes lit up as he turned toward Louis, "I heard you were going to follow in my footsteps. Trying to train dragon's aye?" he raised his glass.

Louis smiled, and began to raise his glass when Fleur clasped his shoulder, "No, he ees not," she said with finality.

Louis looked cowed and broke eye contact with his uncle.

Charlie looked insulted, "And why not?"

"Eet ees a dangerous job. I do not want _mon enfant formation dragons_!" Fleur slipped into her native language as she fumed.

"_Il n'est pas si dangereux que ça," _Charlie said, speaking in fluent French, startling Fleur.

"Not dangerous? Ha!" Fleur shrieked, "Look at you! You lost an arm, traneeng dragons! Look at the burns on your face!"

Charlie was about to protest, and then he suddenly got quiet. Fleur closed her mouth and her face grew less stern, as she realized what she had said. Then Charlie smiled, that scarred smile that Louis always associated with his uncle.

"I'm gonna go ahead and go to Ginny's for the night. You know, spend some time with my sister," he got up quickly and awkwardly pushed his chair up to the table. He walked past Louis and patted him on the shoulder, passing by Fleur without a glance.

"Wait, Charlie! You can't Disapparate when you're dr-," the loud 'pop' outside shut Bill up.

Victoire looked down at her unfinished bowl of stew and Dom stared furiously at her mother, "Nice going, mom."

Louis knew it was going to happen. Fleur and Charlie always found a way to bump heads, but it was no matter. He loved seeing his uncle, despite the shitstorm that always ensued.

* * *

**All of you who PM'ed me and reviewed the real names of Andi and Remy are going to get chapter 18 as soon as I get done writing it. I will load it to the site around 8:00 PM EST (New York time), so you all can get a chance to read it before everyone else. Thanks!**


	18. August 18- Runction

**Ruction****: a disturbance, quarrel, or row… **_**it says it all.**_

**August 18, 2027**

Hugo's leg shook uncontrollably. He was sitting at the restaurant table, head in his hands and wine glass empty.

"Hugo, it's okay. It's going to be fine," Rose sat across from him. She took his hand in her own and she stroked his long fingers. They were perfect for healing people, long elegant fingers which saved lives everyday. Fingers that were shaking in fear.

"They went to the bathroom, right?" Hugo looked up from the table.

"Yeah. You know dad has a week bladder and mum had all that apple juice. Hugo, look at me!" she snapped.

Hugo looked into his sister's eyes, so filled with love, not unlike his mother's.

"Hugo, are you okay?" Hermione's voice came from beside him. Hugo physically jumped and his knee hit the table.

"Ha! You okay son. These tables are solid oak," Ron said, sitting down in his seat, "They were out of bloody paper towels in the washroom. I had to dry my hands on my pants."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at her son, "Why are you shaking?"

"I… I have something to tell you all," Hugo said. He stared straight into Rose's eyes. She knew, and she loved him still. She didn't think he was an abomination or a deviant.

"Oh, you're not flunking medical school are you?" Ron asked, slapping his face with his palm.

"Of course not, Ron. Hugo takes after his mother, all A's right?"

Hugo nodded with a terse smile, " It's not about school. It's about me."

"Well what is it, kid?" Ron asked, looking concerned. Again Hugo's eyes held contact with his sister's.

"I… um… I'm… I'm gay," his voice died away at the end, but he said it nonetheless.

Rose smiled at him, but Hugo had to break eye contact now. The words were out and it was time for the reactions.

Hermione's eyes were unmoving, unstaring. She sat up straight, her mouth in a thin line, like a statue. Ron was another story. His face was red, his eyes fiery and his nostrils flared, "What?"

"I... I'm gay, dad. I-," Hugo was on the ground, his face burning.

The restaurant was quiet as people peered at the scene.

"Ronald!" Hermione yelled. Ron was standing in his seat, breathing hard. His face was still red, but his eyes looked sad, almost apologetic.

Ron looked at his son, opened his mouth as if to say something. He thought better of it and walked out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him.

Rose wasn't smiling anymore. She ran over to help her brother up while Hermione cried on the other side of the table. Hugo's eyes watered as his sister looked at his already swelling eye.

Hermione snapped out of her crying daze and walked over to her son. She withdrew her wand, tapped it on his closed eye and it immediately went down, the soreness trickling away. She kissed him on his eye and smiled at him, "I love you," she said, "I love you no matter what and so does your… so does your father."

Hugo nodded as Hermione stood, kissed her son on the cheek again, and walked out of the restaurant, all eyes on her.

Hugo was at a loss of words, but it was over now. His sister loved him, his mother loved him, and his boyfriend loved him. He wasn't so sure about his father.


	19. August 19- Vellicate

**Vellicate****: to touch (a body part) lightly so as to excite the surface nerves and cause uneasiness, laughter, or spasmodic movements… **_**like touching your baby sister.**_

**August 19, 1981**

"She hasn't smiled at me yet," Bill smiled at the pudgy lump in his mother's arms. Molly sat in her rocker, swaying back and forth to get the young girl to sleep.

"Oh?" Molly asked, amused. This was her seventh child, so she knew newborns rarely smiled, much less for a reason.

"Yeah. She smiled when dad held her. And she smiles all the time when you get done feeding her. I want her to smile at me!" Bill said with a frown, a little too loudly. Ginny gurgled and smacked her lips. Her eyes opened and they met Bill's for a while.

"Can I touch her?" he asked.

Molly smiled and nodded. She cautioned, "Be gentle of her head."

Bill drew his hand back at his mum's warning, thought for a second, and reached for the baby's cheek. The skin was smooth, smoother than he was used to with his younger brothers. Whenever he helped his mum bandage his brothers, their skin was always grungy and scabby, but not this one's. Ginny was smooth and pure and new.

"Can I hold her?" he asked. Molly stared up at her son, mildly shocked.

"You never wanted to hold Ronald," she observed with a smile.

"Well he spit up all the time. Plus he's just another boy. I have too many brothers. Can I hold my sister?" he asked again.

Molly nodded and instructed her eldest on how to hold his arms. When his arms were right, she gently placed the newborn in his arms.

Bill's eyes bulged in fear when Molly finally let go, but he soon relaxed, knowing he had her. Bill bounced a little, taking note from his mother.

Just as he began to bounce her, Ginny's mouth spread and she showed her toothless gums. Bill gasped and stopped bouncing.

"Mum, she smiled!" Bill said.

"Yes, yes she did!" Molly smiled. She wished she could take a picture, but she had no idea where the camera was.

"She's smiling! She's sm-," Bill's face turned into a frown.

"Ugh, she smells!" Bill said. He reached out his arms toward his mother.

"It was a gas smile, huh?" Molly said. She took her daughter and laughed as she stood to change Ginevra's diaper.

"Gas smile. Merlin, I thought it was me," Bill said as he trudged out of the room, mad at the world.


	20. August 20- Foudroyant

**Foudroyant****: sudden and overwhelming in effect… **_**like love at first sight… or one hundredth sight. **_

**August 20, 2015**

Teddy was glad to be able to hang out with Harry and the Weasley's for the first time in a while. He had been home all summer, taking care of his sick grandmother and she had just gotten over the bug. This was the first time he'd really been out of the house all summer.

"How long's it been since you've seen everyone, Ted?" Harry asked. He was leading the group down the dirt lane that led to the Burrow. He was carrying a casserole dish, something Ginny had cooked.

"About two months, I think. I haven't seen Vic and Dom since the last day of term."

"Well, nobody has changed much," Ginny said, walking hand in hand with Harry. Teddy loved how… together… they were. He always imagined that's how his parents used to be.

As the Burrow came into sight, James took off at a sprint, eager to meet up with Fred, who he hadn't seen in a week. The Weasley's had an understood rule that they'd meet every Saturday or Sunday to have dinner and this Sunday was no abberation.

Albus took off after his oldest brother, falling behind due to his shorter limbs. Lily, made off to run, but thought better of it, not wanting to mess up her new shoes, instead she fell back to walk with Teddy.

"Y'know Vic, fancies you right?" she asked suddenly.

Teddy laughed, "Is that right?"

"Mhmm. Roxy and I were going through her dresser drawer, looking for bras… I mean... things… and we came across her diary. She talks about you a lot… usually about how she hates you, but sometimes, she talks different," Lily said matter-of-factly.

Interest piqued, Teddy said, "I doubt it."

"Boys can be so thick," Lily said rolling her eyes.

Teddy shook his head, splaying his shoulder length blonde hair around and he took off, ready to see his other family.

* * *

The door to the Burrow was wide open and smells of food spilled out of it. Teddy entered without hesitation. Molly instantly met him at the door.

"Well, Teddy Lupin! You have grown two inches!" Molly Weasley said, staring up at Teddy.

"Maybe you shrunk, Gran," Teddy smiled. She smiled and wrapped her arms around Teddy's waist, squeezing him.

"Ginny hasn't been feeding you. I can fix that," she said. She reached onto the table and sneakily handed Teddy a dinner roll, "Don't tell Ron. I've been beating him off of the rolls since he got here," she said. She patted him on the back and walked outside to meet with her daughter.

Sitting at the kitchen table were Hermione and Percy, having a fervent discussion about something Teddy was sure he didn't care about. He walked over and hugged his aunt from her seat. She turned to stare up at him and gave a similar greeting that Molly had given him. Percy shook his hand and commented on his height.

Teddy hadn't noticed how tall he had gotten since he got around the Weasley's. The Weasley's were all either short and stout, or tall and gangly, and he was taller than Bill, the tallest Weasley.

After greeting almost everyone and having almost all of them comment on his height or his skinniness and even his hair ('Yes Gran, I know it's too long. Remember I can easily suck it back into my skull.') Teddy was tired. He sat on the couch in the living room, watching James and Fred play exploding snap.

"Oi, Vic!" one of his cousins or uncles had yelled from behind him. Teddy's ears perked at the name and he turned, looking for her. He didn't know why, last time he had seen her, she had singed some of his hair with her wand and called him a prat. He was still curious nonetheless.

Then he saw her and he let out an audible gasp. Her hair, usually placed in a tall, tight ponytail, was loose and long and curly down her back. It cascaded like a red waterfall and he could just hear it flowing in the back of his mind. She had gotten taller since last term, but not much so. She would take after her Aunt Ginny in stature, short and muscular, perfect for a Beater on a Quidditch team, which, if Teddy wasn't wrong, she was. Her eyes were just as blue as always, but the way hair framed her face caused her eyes to 'pop' so to speak. The light blue became pools of water that he was sure he could dive into. She smiled toward the person who had called her name, and he saw her face become even more beautiful than it was with an indifferent look. Then he remembered that she was fourteen.

"Bloody hell," Ted said as he snapped out of his daze. He slapped himself quite hard.

"What the hell is wrong with you, mate?" James asked. He was looking up from his game with Fred, who was winning.

"Uh… nothing. And… er… don't say hell," Teddy said, trying to forget his moment of weakness.

"But you just did… twice," Fred pointed out.

"Oh, shut up," Teddy said as he stood and walked into the front yard to clear his mind.

* * *

He had only been in the yard for a moment when a voice from behind him made him jump.

"Lupin," came the voice. It was clear as a bell and slightly deep for a girl, but sexy nonetheless. Was he unlucky enough for it to be…?

"Victoire," he said as he turned around to face her.

"I do believe that's the first time you haven't called me Vic… or Weasley 2." Arthur had given all of his eleven grandchildren and Teddy a number, as he was horrible at remembering names. Victoire was the second, due to birth order. Teddy was Weasley 1.

"Is it?" Teddy asked, trying his best to keep his eyes on her eyes and not on her chest. Merlin, was he sure she was fourteen. Because _those_ didn't look fourteen.

"Mhmm," she concurred while looking up at the stars.

"Ready for your last year?" she asked without preamble.

"Er… I guess. I have no choice but to be really."

Victoire nodded, "Understandable. I have three years after this one and it seems like such along time to go."

"It actually goes by quite fast. Don't blink or you might miss something," Teddy smiled.

"You're so lame," Victoire laughed. She playfully punched his arm and he laughed too.

"You have a hard punch for a girl," he joked.

"Your forgetting I'm a Weasley and plus you probably just have fragile skin for a boy. No worries."

"Whatever, Weasley 2," Teddy said as he made his way to the door. Molly had called everyone for grace before they ate.

They sat by each other at the dinner table talking about the summer, and what Teddy planned on doing a year from now, and what Vic planned on doing after she graduated. They were the last to get up from the dinner table and Vic was quite mad when Bill came to get her so they could all go home. It was then Teddy knew he was in love because after Victoire left, he was so sad about not being able to see her until that next Sunday.


	21. August 21- Gormandize

**Gormandize: to eat greedily or ravenously… _like when you're famished after a long day of work._**

**August 21, 2029**

Ivy Potter threw her feet up on the couch. She had spent her day in Diagon Alley asking people left and right if they cleaned using magic or not. She loved her job at the _Prophet_, but the odd jobs they had her do were sometimes boring and frequently demeaning as a woman. But she wasn't a complainer, so she came home, paid the babysitter, attended to her son, and made dinner.

Then she was content with sitting on her couch with a _Witch Weekly_ and a small box of biscuits. And that was what she was doing when James walked in.

"I am _starving,"_ James said as he walked into the living room. He found Ivy on the sofa reading a magazine. On her chest lay a two-year-old Isaac, fast asleep.

"Food's in the kitchen," Ivy said in hushed tones. She stood and put Isaac in his playpen to sleep.

"Where? Oh, I see it," James called from the adjoining kitchen.

Ivy smiled, thinking about her scatter-brained husband.

James sat on the sofa beside Ivy and asked her about her day while he ate with gusto.

"It was horrible. I spent the whole day outside of Flourish and Blot- James do you know you're eating Bruno's food?"

"I'm what?" James said, continuing to eat from his bowl.

"You're eating Bruno's food," Ivy said with a frown.

James looked down into his bowl, "You mean this isn't your beef stew?"

"No! Are you saying my beef stew tastes like dog food?" Ivy asked.

"Well so does your tuna salad but…"

Ivy pushed James's head into his bowl. She walked off (all the while laughing heartily) into the kitchen, where she brought out James's plate of grilled fish and broccoli.

"Here's your real dinner. But I was just struck with an idea," she said with a smile.

James was cleaning off his face when he replied, "What's that dear."

"I should make beef stew tomorrow!"

* * *

**Sorry for the length guys. I'm tired, sick, and behind, but I'm going to catch up today! I plan on getting way ahead of myself this weekend so I can keep these coming out daily. Thanks for your patience! **


	22. August 22- Distrain

**Distrain: to seize the property of (a person) in order to compel payment of debts… _like evictions._**

**August 22, 1999**

George grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge, knowing he wouldn't feel like getting up later. Or maybe he wouldn't be able to walk. He had left butterbeer a while back, much preferring the earthy taste of regular beer. The dulling effect wasn't bad either of course.

He sat in his flat in London, which he had bought with all his savings from the joke shop. He wondered how the shop was doing these days, but he was sure Lee Jordan was running it fine. Maybe Ron was helping Lee. That would be nice, having Ron working there. But he couldn't go back. The shop had too many memories and the flat above it was unlivable for George. He'd let Lee stay there.

After his fourth beer (of the hour), there was a knock at the door. George stood with wobbly legs and trudged to the door, using the jamb for support.

"Lee?" George slurred, "How d'you know where I live?"

The tall wizard walked into George's apartment, noting the stale smell of alcohol.

"Ron told me," Lee said with a frown.

"I tole him not tuh say nuthin'," George said, then he laughed, "Ronnie could never hold water."

"Uh... yeah. The shop is doing fine, George, but Diagon Alley is upping the rent. We won't be able to keep up after a couple of months. We need more products or another shop or we're going to be evicted."

"Oh. Well that's fucking hilarious," George said. He laughed quite loudly and then he threw up without warning.

After wiping his mouth he said, "You'd think me being pissed off of my arse all the time would help me handle my liquor," he said, hiccupping.

Lee shook his head, "George, I understand the situation… but we are going to lose the shop in the next year if you don't come back. I don't know what I'm doing Georgie."

George looked into Lee's eyes and he seemed to become lucid for a moment. Lee smiled at him, hoping he had come back from his drunken daze.

"I… I'm…" George toppled backwards, landing in his own vomit with a sickening plop.

Lee fought the urge to upchuck as he waved his wand at his fallen friend. The vomit disappeared and a blanket materialized on George's torso. He turned him over on his stomach.

He walked out of the furniture-less flat and closed the door, locking it behind him. He prayed George would come back to reality soon enough to save his business, but he wasn't sure it would ever happen.

* * *

**If you've read _How I Met Your Mother: George and Angelina_, you know all went well, but George had it rough for a while.**


	23. August 23- Lupine

**Lupine****: savage; ravenous; predatory… **_**this is too easy. **_

**August 23**

_**Remus John Lupin-1997**_

It happened like clockwork because… let's face it, it was. Once a month, every thirty days, it would happen. The magic would build up in him for days. He would be restless and irritable, snapping at Tonks for no reason or crying from the pain. Then on the day when the moon is at its fullest, it would happen. The magic would pour out in an instant and he was no longer Remus John Lupin. He was no longer a husband or a father or a friend. He was an animal in every definition of the word. An animal, indeed.

_**William Arthur Weasley-1997**_

"My head!" Bill cried. It was his second full moon since Greyback had attacked him in June.

"Bill," Molly said as she stood at his bedside. Dabbing a cold washcloth on his forehead.

"I feel like my head is ripping at the seems, mum. I can't do this!" he yelled. Ginny stood in the doorway, crying and Arthur held her. Fleur sat at his other side, her hand in his.

"Ginny, go in the kitchen and get the wolfsbane potion," Molly ordered, fighting back tears.

Bill writhed on the bed. _'At least he wouldn't turn'_, was all he could think.

_**Edward Remus Lupin-2017**_

He stared out of the window at the moon. He longed to touch it, but he obviously knew it was impossible. He had always had the strange attraction toward the moon, often causing him a great deal of confusion.

He was fifteen when Harry had told him his dad was a werewolf and it all made since. The full moon made him angry, aggressive, and sometimes he even got a severe headache. It was in him, he knew it. It was trying to come out and be free. His inner beast was apparent and he wanted to let it loose.

_**Remus Harry Lupin-2048**_

Fenrir Greyback had bitten both of his grandfathers. One of them was a werewolf and one had the bad effects of lycanthropy. He'd heard the attack stories since he was about twelve, all from his grandfather, Bill.

Remy was the first 'genetic werewolf' as they call him. He wasn't bitten and he wasn't scratched, he was just born. It didn't hurt when he turned, as his grandfather said it did. It wasn't all that compulsory, he turned every full moon, but he could suppress it with a potion and some strong will. He could even turn when the moon wasn't at it's fullest, but it was easiest if it was. He was a glorified Animagus.

So in the grand scheme of things, he was lucky. He pitied his grandfather, who still had to deal with it to this day and he often thought of his namesake. He wondered how he handled it and if it hurt him too. But no matter what, when he was running as a wolf, he was free. He ran faster than any human could and he could smell all things and he could see in the dark. He was an animal, strong, wild and free.


	24. August 24- Galore

**Galore****: in abundance; in plentiful amounts… **_**like a card collection.**_

**August 24, 2016**

James rarely went past the threshold of Albus's room. There was never a need (or a want) for him to do so, so he didn't. In fact the last time James had forayed into his younger brother's room, it had been to mess with him. And that was his plan now.

He poked his head through the open doorway; glad his brother was trusting enough to leave it open. Fred had just gone home and James was bored, so he resorted to petty trickery.

He walked in confidently, straight toward his brother's bookshelf. He was searching for a diary or something but he came across something that sparked an idea.

"What are you doing?" Albus asked from the doorway.

James's head snapped up and he locked eyes with his little brother, "I didn't know you collected chocolate frog cards."

Albus looked at James cautiously, seeing no threat he walked into his room and grabbed the binder, "Yeah. I got 'em all too. Well except one. I'm missing the one of dad, Ironically enough. He keeps offering to get me one, but I want to find it you know. It would defeat the purp-,"

"Oh that's cool. I just threw one away with dad's name on it," James said casually, flipping through a book.

"Really!?" Albus's eyes lit up.

"Yeah. Harry Potter… The first and only known wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning...," before James could finish, Albus was out of the room.

The prank wasn't much, but at least James could take pride in the fact that his brother was digging through the rubbish bin looking for a card that wasn't there.


	25. August 25- Orthoepy

**Orthoepy: the study of correct pronunciation… _like spellcasting._**

**August 25, 2012**

"How does this one go, Vicky?" Dominique asked.

"_Wingardium Leviosa,"_ Victoire said dismissively. She had summer holiday homework that she had put off until the last moment, but the term started back in a week and she was nowhere near done.

"Weengardidum Leviosa?" Dominique said.

"Mhmm," Vic said with a quill sticking out of her mouth.

"Ahh what about… umm… Aguamental," Dom pointed.

Victoire rolled her eyes, "It's _Aguamenti _and the next one is _Incendio_, for future reference."

"Oh, _Incendio!" _she said. Victoire nodded; relieved her sister had finally gotten one right.

"Uhh… Vic," Dominique said, voice shaking.

"What, Dominique?" Victoire asked, biting the end off of her quill. Then she found a fire consuming the rug in front of her.

"Bloody hell!" Vic scampered for her wand on the end table and got to it just as the fire began to lick at the couch.

"_Aguamenti!_" she yelled, directing a large jet of water at the floor in front of her. She was separated from her sister by the wall of flame that had been conjured by her sister.

Ten heart wrenching seconds later, Victoire held her sister in her arms.

"How'd you do that?" Vic asked.

"Mum's wand was on the…"

"Where is it now!" Victoire asked.

"It's um…" she pointed at burnt chunk of wood in the middle of the floor.

"Well Mum is going to kill you… but at least you're going to go into Hogwarts being able to do one spell," Vic said, glad that she and her sister was safe. Her homework however wasn't.

"I wonder if Flitwick would accept the excuse that my sister burned my homework?"

* * *

**I'm really into the sibling stuff lately... the dynamics are so cool to me. Enjoy!**


	26. August 26- Schlep

Schlep: to move slowly, awkwardly, or tediously… _like sleepwalking._

August 26, 2012

Bill was jostled awake by a small hand on his arm. He opened his heavy eyelids to find his daughter with a worried expression.

"Dad, she's doing it again," Dominique said.

Bill nodded and swung his legs off of the high bed he and Fleur slept on. He decided not to wake his wife.

"Lead the way munchkin," Bill said.

Dominique nodded, her blanket in hand. She trudged into the living room and pointed toward the kitchen as she plopped onto the sofa.

Bill looked toward the small kitchen to find Victoire in front of the stove, head bent and hands busy in front of her.

Bill walked toward his oldest as she walked around the kitchen. Her gait was almost funny as she limped her way awkwardly around the kitchen. Looking around, Bill could see she was making an omelet.

"Vicky," Bill said softly, placing himself between the refrigerator and his daughter. Her eyes were glassy and she was slumped over. She was reminiscent of a zombie, minus the putrid flesh.

"Huh?" she asked, her eyes focusing. Her knees wobbled and Bill caught her before she could fall.

"You were sleepwalking, _cher_," Bill said.

"Again?" she asked.

"Yeah. What are you nervous about?"

"Nervous… I'm not nervous," Victoire protested.

"Last time you sleepwalked you were nervous about telling your mother that you broke your grandmother's music box. I'm pretty sure your nervous."

Vic bit her lip, another nervous habit, and said, "I just… I just don't want to go to Hogwarts. I don't want to leave."

Bill was taken aback, "But that's all you've been talking about since last week."

"I know… I just… I don't know. I've been trying to make myself excited to leave… but I'm going to miss all of you, and grams and Harry. I don't want to go."

"You'll have Ted and Neville," he reasoned.

"I don't like Teddy," Victoire said resolutely.

Bill laughed, "Yes you do. But I digress. Christmas is coming up soon. Then they'll be Easter holidays, then summer break. Then before you know it, Dominique will be joining you and then Fred and James and then… well you get my drift. You'll have fun. I promise."

"Fun is relative," she said.

"You are more stubborn than your mother. Hell, your more stubborn than my mother," Bill laughed.

"You said 'hell'," Victoire pointed out, laughing.

"Don't tell your mum," he smiled. He picked up his eleven year old, who was heavier than he remembered her being, and he walked over to the sofa to pick up Dominique, who was snoring a little too loudly for a nine-year-old girl.

With both arms full of his daughters, Bill carried them to bed and kissed them both to sleep.


	27. August 27- Couchant

**Couchant: lying down; crouching; reclining… _like a nice lunchtime nap._**

**August 27, 2016**

He needed this. This was his time, and his time only. Not the Ministry's, not the departments and not even Ginny's or the kids. He quietly walked up the stairs, skipping the fifth one up because it always squeaked. His room was the first on the right.

Ginny had agreed that Harry should have his own room for winding down. It was equipped with a desk and a couple of bookshelves. It had a nice fireplace and an even nicer lounging chair in front of it.

That is exactly where he sat. It was a nice leather recliner, padding included. He had made is softer with magic and if her reclined at the right angle, the chair felt almost exactly like a bed.

His eyes were closed for only a moment when there was a tugging on his sleeve.

Harry opened his eyes and beheld the sight of his daughter, "Daddy, I can't reach the chocolate bars on the fridge."

Harry nodded, "Ask your mum."

"She said I couldn't have any. She's making lunch now," Lily pouted.

"Well your mum is right," Harry said.

"But I'm hungry _now,_" she whined. Usually Harry didn't give in whining but he was tired. He hadn't slept all night because he was working on a case. Harry lifted his wand slightly and a bag of Hershey's Kisses floated from a drawer in his dresser.

"I'm giving you three. Don't tell your mum. Run along, little one."

Lily beamed and scampered from the room. Harry snapped at the door and the lock clicked into place, hopefully buying him some piece.

* * *

Only what seemed like a second later (it had to be five minutes), another tug woke Harry up.

"Wut?" he asked, sleep in his eyes. There stood his sons, one of them very pissed and the other obviously amused.

"Albus read some letters in room. I told him to get lost and he tore them up," James complained.

"They were hilarious," Albus said, stifling a laugh, "You are so lame. You said your going to Apparate Tiffany to Fran-,"

"Shut up, you prat!" James threatened with his fist cocked in front of his brother's face. Albus continued to laugh.

"Al, stay out of James's room. You hate it when he comes in yours so imagine how he feels. James, keep your love letters somewhere private because I know for a fact that your mother is nosier than your brother is. And before I send you two on your way… how'd you get in here?"

James smiled, "Dad, I've had a key for this place since I was ten."

"Ah," Harry said, "_Accio_ Key."

The key flew from James's pocket into Harry's hand, "Bye-bye now," he said as he shooed his warring children from the room. He locked the door again, this time manually and magically. Back to sleep he went.

* * *

"Harry James Potter," Harry heard. He was dreaming of a Transfiguration test and he heard his name being called by McGonagall.

"I don't know, Professor. I didn't study," Harry said, opening his eyes. Instead of being met with McGonagall's stern glare, he was met with his wife's fiery eyes.

"Chocolate?" she asked, holding the foil wrapper of the Kisses.

"Yeah… she asked really nicely." Harry defended.

"And I'm nosy, huh?" she asked.

"I meant it in a very nice way," Harry smiled.

"Oh yeah? Well allow me to nicely tell you how I feel."

* * *

**If you were wondering… Harry didn't get to sleep for his lunch break.**


	28. August 28- Kith

**Kith: acquaintances, friends, neighbors, or the like… _the definition says it all._**

**August 28, 2002**

"Why are you here?" Angelina asked. She sat on her sofa her sofa Indian-style. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was eating a tube of cookie dough.

"I'm here," George said as he sauntered in from the door, "because I am out of cookie dough and I needed some."

He snatched the tube out of her hand and took a bite. Angelina glared at him.

"You don't take cookie dough away from a woman on her period," she said snatching it back.

"Ew. I don't want to know what's going on in your nether-regions. Although that would explain why you look so…" George was silenced by Ange's death stare.

"Can you go home now?" Ange asked.

"But you love it when I'm here Ange." George said. He plopped onto the sofa next to her and took the newspaper she was reading.

"No, no. I like when you come over to fix that wretched noise my fridge makes. But that's about it. Oh and when you fix me omelets. That's cool too."

"I am _hurt_, Angelina! Are you insinuating that you use me?" George asked in mock-horror.

"Not insinuating… outright saying."

"That's not neighborly," George stated as he flipped through the _Prophet_.

"I know," Angelina agreed, snatching her newspaper back.


	29. August 29- Shenanigan

**Shenanigan: mischief; prankishness… _I smell the Marauders._**

**August 29, 1973**

"Boy, I haven't seen your mom yell at you like that… ever," Sirius said with an awed chuckle.

"I was embarrassed _for_ you," Remus said.

Peter nodded vehemently.

James shook his head, "What I did wasn't _that_ bad was it?"

Remus nodded and Sirius said, "Mate, your dad threw his back out. Yeah it was bad."

"We all did it," James said.

"No, we were fine with messing around with some of the people at the party. You were the one that let the marbles loose on the dance floor," Remus reasoned.

"That's annoyingly accurate," James said.

"Aren't I always?"

* * *

**It's short but i'm trying to catch up. I think it suffices though. Stay tuned!**


	30. August 30- Premorse

**Premorse: pertaining to the end of something irregularly shortened, as if bitten or broken off… _like a premature death._**

**August 30, 1982**

"Did you check on the boy today, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked. McGonagall had just walked into his office.

"Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, Minerva, Potter," Albus smiled.

"Yes I did. His Aunt is… she is something I won't say in front of the portraits of the founders if Hogwarts.

"I see," Dumbledore said.

"I don't know why we couldn't take him in here, Albus. Dippet did it for Hagrid. We could have raised him until he turned elev-,"

"Minerva, you know as well as I that Master Potter would not do well growing up as a celebrity."

McGonagall nodded then she frowned, "It's just not fair Albus. He didn't even get to know his parents. Lily was such a lovely girl and James was so charming."

"Very true. They died too soon, but they died for a reason. We must keep that in mind. Think of the Longbottoms. Neville is in the same metaphorical boat that Harry is in."

"How could… he be so evil?" Minerva asked, "How could he orphan two young children."

"Your jaded underestimation of evil startles me, Minerva. He is _evil_ and incapable of love. He is incapable of remorse and he probably doesn't care that Harry and Neville and dozens of other Wizarding and Muggle children are growing up without their parents."

"Well I'm just glad he's gone," she said.

"I'm not so sure."


	31. August 31- Beek

**Beek: to bask or warm in the sunshine or before a fire… _like a family beach trip._**

_Dear Teddy, _

_August 31, 2018_

_The whole family decided to come together on a trip to Broadstairs. By the whole family, I mean Uncle George. He used his enormous wealth to get us all here in town-cars and the like. _

_Me, Mum, Dad, Al, and Lily all hopped in to the limo and set off for the eighty-mile trip. Al was being a snot-rag and Lily was being a pain-in-the-ass… so I just tuned out. _

_We all got to the beach at the same time, Fred getting there only half an hour before us. _

_We lay around on the beach for a while and got in the water some. There were some fine Muggle girls in bikinis and Fred got a girl's cell number even though he doesn't have a cell. What is a cell?_

_Toward the end of the night, the Weasley Clan all went to a pretty deserted spot on the beach and my dad and my uncles built a bonfire. We sat around, the grown-ups and us kids. We hadn't done that in a while. Us kids told Lily, Hugo and Roxanne what to expect at Hogwarts and what teachers not to piss off. I asked Vic how it felt to be graduating in a year and she said it was 'scary as hell, but cool at the same time.'_

_It got dark pretty fast, and that was our cue to go home. We all had to wake up in the morning. It was at this point that we realized that all of the grandkids would be at Hogwarts this year… sans Teddy anyway. It was a cool thing to think about. I wonder if Hogwarts is ready. _

_I'm pretty damn awesome, _

_James Sirius Potter_


	32. September 1- Anacoluthia

**Anacoluthia: lack of grammatical sequence or coherence, esp. in a sentence… _ever heard a drunken man talk?_**

**September 1, 2016**

"We're so old Fleur," Bill said.

"I am not old, Beel. I am only thirty-nine. You however… are damn near feefty," Fleur counted lazily. She wasn't the type to get drunk but they were on vacation and they were alone. Their last child had just set off to Hogwarts and they couldn't take him because Bill had business in the Canaries. Teddy had dropped all three of their kids off.

Bill hiccupped and said, "I'm only… damn… I'm forty-five… what's that in French?"

"_Quarante-cinq_," Fleur laughed loudly.

"Whoa. Karan-See," he mispronounced.

Fleur's laughter went on, louder and more maniacal.

"Fleur remember when we went to the pizza parlor by the place with the flowers?"

"No," she said simply.

"I'm s'sorry. Maybe it was that seafood place by the Christmas tree shop."

"I'm eelergeec to seafood. You're drunk, Beelly," Fleur said, her accent spilling out from her words.

"You get all French when you're drunk," Bill laughed, "It's sexceeeee," Bill drew out the last word.

"I love you, _vieux._"

"I think you just called me an old man... but I love you too."


	33. September 2- Bilocation

**Bilocation: the state of being or the ability to be in two places at once… _like twins._**

**September 2, 1990**

Cho Chang was short for her age. All of the other first years cleared 4'10 easy, but not her. She was 4'8 and proud, but it could (and frequently did) come as a handicap.

Even now, Cho was trying her best to make it to her second hour Transfiguration class, but she couldn't see any landmarks past the ocean of fourth years around her. As she craned her neck to see above a sandy haired girl, she didn't notice a divot in the floor beneath her feet.

Before realizing it, Cho was on the ground face first. Her nose was sore, but it wasn't bleeding. Her papers and books were scattered around her and her hair was out of its ponytails.

There were chuckles, and since everyone was just about to be late, no one stopped to help her. Well that was until a red haired boy, not much taller than she was, stopped to help.

Fighting back tears, Cho thanked the boy and he gave a dazzling smile, "No problem. I'm Fred by the way. Fred Weasley."

Cho nodded, returned the smile half-heartedly and walked toward her class, already late.

* * *

The meek Cho quietly explained what happened to McGonagall, who was quite accommodating. She sat and started to take notes on a new spell. Realizing that her inkbottle must have fallen out of her bag, Cho turned to her left to ask if she could share her neighbor's.

She was surprised to find the boy who had helped her in the hall, "Oh. Hello again, Fred. Can I borrow you're your ink?"

The boy looked up, surprised, "Er… sure. But my name is George. You're probably talking about my-,"

"Mr. Weasley. You are already repeating first year Transfiguration, do you think talking will help you get out of it?" McGonagall asked tersely.

"Probably not, Professor," the boy… George… or Fred said with a smirk.

Cho decided not to push the issue.


	34. September 3- Cachinnate

**Cachinnate: to laugh loudly or immoderately… _self-explanatory. _**

**September 3, 2018**

Victoire sat amongst her cousins and siblings at the Gryffindor table. She was a little stressed, considering she was starting her first day as Quidditch captain today. She was planning on starting tryouts right after lunch and considering that most of her cousins were trying out, she knew she was going to have to cut at least one of them.

The thought made her cringe; her Weasley loyalty was conflicting with her duty to the Gryffindor house. Simply put, she was in a bad mood.

"What's wrong, Vicky?" someone asked from across the table.

"You know I hate that nickname, _Doodlebug_," Victoire said smirking at James.

James's eye twitched, "You promised you'd-,"

"I promised nothing Dood-,"

"Anyway… what's wrong?" he asked, his annoyance turning into concern.

'I'm nervous about tryouts," Victoire said simply.

"You of all people shouldn't be nervous, Vic. You have the only guaranteed spot," James smiled.

"Not what I'm worried about," she said, picking at her toast.

"Then what is?"

"I'm probably have to cut one of you," Victoire said, looking into James's hazel eyes.

James was sober for a moment and then suddenly, he let out a laugh that startled Victoire and earned him a disapproving look from Professor Longbottom. James mouthed an apology to his head of House and turned back to his cousin.

"Is that _all_ you're worried about?" James asked.

"_All?_ What d'you mean _all_?" Victoire asked, fire in her eyes.

"I mean there's nothing to worry about. Roxy, Lils and Hugo can't try out… I'm pretty sure Hugo wouldn't anyway. Rose is the best Chaser I've ever seen. Louis is a fair Beater but he wouldn't mind being put on alternative. Fred and me are obviously amazing so we're gonna be on the team anyway and I do believe that's all of the Weasley's that are trying out. Still nervous?"

Victoire thought for a moment, "Merlin, I hate it when you're right."

James laughed again, this one louder than the first, receiving a kick from his cousin (and soon to be Quidditch captain) under the table.


	35. September 4- Dégagé

**Degage: unconstrained; easy, as in manner or style… _like a laid back parent._**

**September 4, 2016**

"Dad how'd you do this?" Rose asked. She slid into Ron's chair beside him with a notebook.

Ron put on his reading glasses and looked at his daughter's neat handwriting, "If you carry the five there, you get the right answer."

Rose nodded, tried it and shook her head, "Nope."

Ron scrunched up his eyes and asked, "Why don't you ask your mum. You know I'm no good at maths."

"I went to mum first," Rose said with a smile, "and she gave me ten extra problems to do. I'll rather do it your way."

Ron laughed with gusto as he redid his daughter's problem, doing it the right way this time.

"And there you go," Ron said as he sent his daughter off.

Hermione walked around the corner then, "You're so easy with hem," she said as she took her daughter's spot beside Ron.

"Eh, it's just my personality," Ron brushed off.

"I think they like you more," Hermione sighed, snuggling up against her husband.

"Ridiculous," Ron said.

"Nope. I push them too hard. I'm the one that's making them go to the day school. I'm the one who gives them extra homework. Im the one who cut's out sweets before supper."

"Yes, you're the one who makes sure they know how to read and write before they go to Hogwarts. You're the one who makes sure they have good grades, and you're the one who makes sure they don't get doughy. They love you Hermione."

Hermione didn't say anything; she just nodded into her husband's chest.

"I love you," Ron said.

The only response was a snore. Ron laughed and placed a blanket over himself and his wife.

* * *

**Just as some backstory, my research has shown that Wizard kids tend to get tutored by their parents in the basics of education before they go into Hogwarts. In my head, Hermione, who was raised as a Muggle (and who works), would be more comfortable having her kids go to a regular Muggle school until they turn eleven. That's why ten year old Rose and eight year old Hugo go to school.**


	36. September 5- Zetetic

**Zetetic: proceeding by inquiry; investigation… _can't you just imagine the Headmaster's office. _**

**September 4, 2019**

"We didn't do it."

"Likely story, Mr. Potter," Sinistra said, staring straight at the boys in front of her.

"Quite, likely. Because we didn't _do_ anything," Fred explained, running his hand through his hair.

"I mean I wish we would have. It was bloody brilliant but-,"

"-we didn't do it," James finished Fred's sentence.

Sinistra stared at the two fifth years in front of her with her piercing dark eyes.

"Where were you after classes let out for the day?"

"Quidditch practice," they said in unison.

"And then?"

"Dinner," they said.

"And in between?"

"I had a date at Black Lake," Fred said.

"And I had Transfiguration homework. Professor Johns is nothing to play with."

"I'm aware. So you two are denouncing the responsibility of Mr. Zabini being in the hospital wing because the bones were cursed out of his legs."

"Yes," they said, then James continued, "Maybe Gilderoy Lockhart is hiding around the castle somewhere."

Sinistra smiled, despite herself, "Due to lack of evidence I'm letting you two go. But I'm going to need you to walk the straight-n- narrow for the rest of the year."

"That's a long time, Professor." James said as he and his cousin stood and left the room. Fred winked at the Professor before he closed the door.

"Charming, huh?" Dumbledore asked from behind Sinistra's chair.

"Boy, are they," the Headmistress agreed.

* * *

**McGonagall retired in 2011, then Sprout took over. Sprout retired in 2015 and then Sinistra rules until 2025 when she steps down to teach again. Then Neville takes over. :)**


	37. September 6- Rubric

**Rubric: a title, heading, or the like, written or printed in red or otherwise distinguished from the rest of the text... _like a red 'F'._**

**September 5, 2018**

"How in the _hell_ did I get a fail?" Rose exclaimed as she walked through the portrait hole. She drew the eyes of numerous people, but her cousins were used to these outbursts.

"What'd you fail?" Victoire asked from a window seat. She was reading a _Witch Weekly_ that her Aunt Ginny had sent her.

Rose balled up the essay parchment that she had carried in and she tossed it to her cousin.

Vic un-balled it and saw the large red 'F' printed in the top right corner of the paper which was titled, '_Goblins in the Modern World'_

"I mean where does he get off assigning us an essay on the third day of term?"

"Professor Oliver?" James asked from the floor. He was also reading, this book one about Quidditch.

"Yes," Rose plopped next to James.

Victoire skimmed over the essay, "Uh… Rosie."

"Yeah?" she asked.

"You know Professor Oliver is half-Goblin right?"

"He's what?" Rose asked.

"His mother is a Goblin," James concurred.

"Oh no," she said.

"Yeah and you wrote about the benefits of some of the Goblin reforms," Victoire said.

"Now he hates me."

"Yup," James, Victoire, and Louis (who was taking when Rose walked in) agreed in unison.


	38. September 7- Kenspeckle

**Kenspeckle: conspicuous; easily seen or recognized… _like a peacock… or someone like that._**

**September 7, 1968**

"Isn't he gorgeous?" Narcissa asked with a smile. She was, of course, referring to the lanky second-year with long blonde locks.

"Something like that," Bellatrix said with intense disinterest.

"Dromeda?" Narcissa's eyes darted to her older sister.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, he's quite handsome in a… gaunt way," Andromeda said looking up from her letter she was writing. She was trying to think of a way to get it to Ted inconspicuously, as Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had no classes together this year.

"You two can't appreciate beauty," Narcissa scoffed as she ran off to, no doubt, write in her diary about Lucius.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy strode into the common room from his dormitory. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, just the way his prospective girlfriends liked it.

His head was high as he walked over to Travers, noticing some of the girls' eyes falling on him.

"Did you finish your essay?" he asked.

Travers began to talk, but Lucius noticed someone staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He looked over without turning his head. He saw the Black sisters staring at him. They were all gorgeous of course, the Rosier heavy-lidded eyes and the Black high cheekbones coming out in them and they all looked alike. Well the oldest two did. The youngest was different.

Her hair was blonder than his and her eyes just as grey and piercing. But her cheekbones were still high and her eyes heavily-lidded and the combination made him shiver a little. But he didn't let it show.

Lucius was sure Travers was still talking, but he walked off anyway, making sure Narcissa saw him walk up the stairs to his dormitory. Maybe she would follow him up and they could snog.

I mean really, who wouldn't snog him?

* * *

**Ugh, can't you just smell the Draco-ness... Dracocity... Draconian... anyway can't you see the family resemblance.**

**My next word is _gerrymandering_. It has one definition... and it's based on US Politics. I'm stumped for the first time in... a while. So it would be cool if you guys could PM and tell me a way to use it... OR (and I prefer this one) you guys can ask me to write one of the chapters from this story in a different perspective. I'll continue on with the other words, skipping _gerrymandering_ until I get some feedback. THANKS!**


	39. September 8- Jubilee

**Jubilee: any season or occasion of rejoicing or festivity… _PARTTAAYY!_**

**September 8, 2018**

"And we are what Victoire?" James asked for the tenth time since they stepped off of the Quidditch pitch.

"_Victorieux_," she said as she rolled her eyes. She couldn't be too mad, because they had won. It was a scrimmage after all, and it didn't count toward the season, but the Gryffindor team had won against Hufflepuff, pushing them toward the finals. Then they faced Slytherin… and they won!

"Speech, speech, speech, speech!" the throng of Gryffindors cheered toward Victoire.

Vic smiled and hopped up onto a coffee table with ease. The crowd died down and all eyes were on her.

"Well, we beat their asses," Victoire said with a smile.

The group roared with laughter and cheers, some of the first years amazed that their Head Girl just swore.

"After only three days of real practice, we beat two teams! We did it together and I mean we _all_ did it. If it wasn't for you guy's cheers," Victoire turned toward the folks who weren't on the team, "we couldn't have done it!" More cheers ringed on.

"Good beating James and Fred… no pun intended," there were laughs.

"Great scoring Rose, Davies and Turner," Rose beamed up at her cousin.

"Awesome blocking Chang,"

"It's Chang-_Sims_, Weasley!" he called from the back of the crowd; he was snogging some third year.

"Yeah, yeah."

"You're forgetting someone," James said. He picked up Victoire by the waist and lifted her from the table. It was easy because he was built to be a Beater and his arms were huge. He stepped up onto the table and looked down at his cousin.

"Cheers to the best Gryffindor Seeker since my dad… or my mum… they were both… yeah… anyway… CHEERS!" James lifted his cup of pumpkin juice and some sloshed on his pants, but no one cared as they cheered for their first win.


	40. September 9- Soupçon

**Soupcon: a slight trace, as of a particular taste or flavor… _like a hint of something you just can't put your finger on._**

**September 9, 2027**

The sound of silver knives scraping ivory plates filled the kitchen. There were 'Mmm's' as the dessert melted in everyone's mouth.

Fleur didn't eat yet; she was watching the fruits of her labor, these fruits being the faces of her family as they ate her delicious chocolate cake. Lynn was the first to speak up.

"This is delicious Mrs. Weasley!" Lynn said with a smile.

Fleur's smile faded and she curtly said, "Thank you."

No one noticed the terseness of her tone except Louis and Bill. Lynn continued, "Is that a hint of nutmeg I taste? I just love to cook and it would be wonderful if I could make this for Louis one day."

Fleur outright frowned, "No. This recipe ees a family secret."

"Well I'm glad I'm going to be family soon," Lynn said with a smile. Then, as if she was slapped, her face froze in horror.

Louis choked on his water and Dominique began twirling her air nervously. Even Teddy's hair faded into a somber orange.

Fleur sat with her mouth open and eyes bugged as if she were just hit with a spell, "What deed you _say?_" she asked with venom in her voice.

Before Louis could explain, Fleur stood from the table quickly and swept from the room, leaving her chair turned on the ground.

* * *

It didn't take a full minute for Bill to follow Fleur into the room after profusely apologizing to his new soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

"Fleur. That was uncalled for," Bill said as he sat on the bed next to his wife. She was brushing her silvery blonde hair with vigor.

"Eet was completely called for. Where does 'e get off (she had learned that phrase from Bill) not telling his mother that he ees engaged?" Fleur asked.

"He was going to tell us tonight, _cher. _That's why he was so insistent on us meeting tonight… although your rudeness almost made him back out."

Fleur clicked her tongue and said, "There was no rudeness to speak of."

"Oh there was rudeness a-plenty," Bill nodded.

Fleur rolled her eyes and walked to the dresser to put her brush down. She sat down in front of a vanity mirror. Bill followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Remember how my mother felt about you at first?"

Fleur was pensive, then she said, "Yes but this is different, he is my only son. My baby boy!"

"And I am my mom's oldest son. _Cher_, I understand what you mean but he's twenty-two. He's of age and he has a job. Hell, he has a better job than I do. And most importantly, he's in love. That's all he needs to support a family. He has it all."

Fleur cried into Bill's shoulder over the loss of her baby boy. Soon she'd realize she had gained a young man (and a daughter-in-law to boot).


	41. Chapter 41

I'm currently uploading this from my iPad due to a major, mother-board frying computer crash. I will continue on this story as soon as I get a new laptop. Your patience is greatly appreciated and I love you all!


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